Chapter Eighteen
Lainey
Congratulations. You’ve been accepted for our next big adventure. Next year, Shelford Build and Teach is heading to Ubud, Indonesia.
Please confirm your place by…
I click confirm, and a feeling of pride takes over me. I haven’t felt this way since I received my first major ballet award when I was ten. But this is different, because this isn’t pride for myself. This is pride over what I can do to help that village and those children.
“So you’re really going?” my casual boyfriend, Heath, says from behind me, massaging my shoulders. “Do you even know what to expect?”
“Yes.” I laugh, but it’s one of those incredulous “are you kidding me” laughs. “We’ve been through this. You know I’ve done my research.” I wriggle out of his hold and stand up, closing my laptop so he stops reading.
“Fuck, I know.” Heath shakes his head, a miserable expression on his face. “But I’m going to miss you.”
“Heath…we’ve been through that too.”
Heath and I shouldn’t be together, but since we live together, it’s more of a convenience thing. I moved back home to Heartwood Falls close to six months ago, but couldn’t handle the thought of moving in with my parents. While we’ve mended our relationship over the years—after they admitted to going about things the wrong way—I still wanted my own space, and Heath needed a roommate, much to my brother’s dismay.
My move to New York started off surprisingly well. Despite not wanting to go, I loved every second of my time at New York International Ballet School. But from the moment I got into Jaiton Academy, all that changed, and it sent my life in a new direction. It turns out, I didn’t need my grandmother’s last name to be seen as a legacy. Gran made sure that everyone knew who I was from the very first day, and rather than the positive response she thought I’d receive, my fears came true.
I wasn’t treated as a dancer in my own right, every move I made was compared to my gran, and it was impossible to break out of her shadow.
But as hard as that was, it wasn’t the worst thing. The worst of it came from my peers. I learned pretty quickly that there were two types of dancers at the school—those that hated me at first glance because of my gran, assuming I hadn’t earned my place, and those that befriended me in the hope of riding my coattails. Or tutu in that case.
For the first few months, I tried to stay positive and block it all out—to focus on dance—but toward the end of my freshman year, things took a turn, and I’d had enough. My peers took things too far during one of their attempts to rattle me, and I hit my limit. There was no going back.
For something that was supposed to be an amazing experience, being at Jaiton ruined ballet for me, and I haven’t wanted to dance since.
Heath fake pouts and I roll my eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” I plead, feeling an argument coming.
“What if you’re my one?” He twists me to face him, his expression serious, making me laugh. “No, listen. I know you said we should take a break when you go, but I’m thinking we shouldn’t.”
“Trust me, I’m not your Miss Right. I’m your Miss Right Now. And what we have works. Don’t try to change it.”
Yes, we’re exclusive, but it’s just sex, nothing more, and we’ve never once questioned it. It’s really inconvenient that he’s changing his tune now.
“But we could be more.” He moves to wrap his arms around my waist, but I shove him away, feeling uncomfortable. “Come on,” he says as I step back. “You know it’s true.”
“In this case, it’s not. I’m not your soulmate. You just don’t want me gone.”
I’m seconds away from calling it quits when Heath groans and his shoulders drop. “I hate that you’re right. I don’t want to lose this good thing we’ve got going on.”
Good thing? It doesn’t feel very good right now…and I’m not sure we can get back there.
With just over a semester to go before I leave for my volunteering at the beginning of summer, I head into work on my way home from class, ready to beg for some extra hours. I only need a minimal weekly payment for my volunteer stint, but I’d love to travel when I’m done. I have nothing keeping me here. In fact, I’d do pretty much anything to stay away, and I still have no idea what I want to do with my life.
Whether I got the volunteer spot or not, I’d already deferred the first semester of my junior year, knowing I needed time to work things through. And even though I only transferred to Heartwood University for my sophomore year, I’m not even sure I want to go back at all when I’m done in Indonesia.
Dancing was my life, my future… What if I’m not good at anything else?
“It’s nice to see you on your night off, Lainey,” my boss says as I pull up a stool at the bar I work in. “Any chance you came to tell me you want to dance?”
I was a little dubious when a dancer friend of mine told me about a speakeasy opening in San Francisco. It was a new concept, one where they planned to have high-end dance performances and roaming dancers while people enjoyed a night out. Think exotic nightclub that’s less risqué with more clothes and one that also serves food. Expensive food. It was pitched to me as an exclusive club for wealthy clientele, and they weren’t kidding.
I was initially contacted because they were looking for dancers, but they also needed bar and wait staff, and I needed a job. It wasn’t what I saw myself doing, but once I met with the owner, Shauna, I knew it was exactly what I needed. The base pay is well above minimum, and we get tips on top. So, while Shauna wants me to dance and jokes about it regularly, she’s never pushed it, and for now, tapping my foot as I serve is the closest I’m going to get. But I like being close.
“How do you know I’m not a bad dancer?” I laugh, reaching forward to clasp her hand, hoping she’ll see how much this all means to me. “I didn’t come for that, but I am here to ask for more work.” Shauna has been a godsend. After I left Jaiton, Gran cut me off financially—unsurprisingly—and my parents didn’t have the funds to support my enrollment at Heartwood. I earn enough working four nights a week here to live, save, and pay the part of my tuition not covered by loans—costs being another reason I’m not excited about the prospect of staying in college.
Shauna smiles as she shakes her head. “We’re lucky to have you with us. I know the girls will miss you too. You may be younger than they are, but you have this air of wisdom about you. Your guidance has been more than helpful. Have you ever thought about teaching as a career?”
It’s not the first time she’s asked that question, and while I have thought about it, my memories of ballet are still raw, and at the moment, I know my answer. “I’m not ready for that.”
Shauna frowns. She’s one of the only people that know exactly what happened at Jaiton, and I plan to keep it that way. Despite her telling me I should be talking to someone about it, I’ve opted to push it from my mind and pretend it never happened. To shut out the pain and embarrassment.
“Maybe one day,” I lie, because if I’m honest, I can’t see that day coming.
“Well, you’re always welcome back.” Shauna puts on a smile. “For now, I’ll give you all the hours you want.”
When I get home, Heath’s passed out on the couch with the TV blaring and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He gave up smoking just before I met him, but when he drinks, he brings them out again.
I sink back against the door and watch him for a minute, my mind drifting to when we first met…to the excitement of getting to know each other, the attraction. It was a high I sought out, something to brighten my world after it turned to shit. But I wish I’d kept chasing that high instead of settling into an unhealthy pattern with Heath. If only it hadn’t been so easy.
Taking a deep breath, I pry the cigarette from his lips as I walk past, breaking it in half before tossing it onto the table, knowing he’ll thank me for it in the morning.
His loud snores ignite a jealousy inside me as I long for sleep, so while I haven’t eaten, I bypass the kitchen, heading straight to my room instead. It’s been a long time since I had a peaceful night.
Pajamas on, I’ve just thrown myself onto my bed when my phone rings, and Jace’s smiling eyes light up my screen.
“Hey, Jace,” I answer through a yawn, stretching my legs across my dark navy sheets, flexing my toes, as I try to ease the constant pain. “How are you?”
“Hey you,” he responds, the smile clear in his voice. “Do I need to give you another lecture on getting enough sleep for your body?” His tone is a little scolding, but since I know he loves me, I laugh.
“Nope. I’m good,” I sass. “I’ve heard it all before.”
Jace is studying to be a doctor. He’s only in his third year of college, but completely dedicated to the cause. We’re lucky if we speak monthly. Yet he always manages to jokingly—or not so jokingly—lecture me about something. He’s under the impression I need to maintain my peak fitness because I’m going to dance again.
I’m not.
“Then I should probably let you rest—”
“Nooo.” I groan as I sit up. “We never get to talk. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, but… are we going to get cut off again?”
“No.” I sigh. “He’s asleep.”
Heath came in once while I was on the phone with Jace and said he needed me for something, clearly lying. Now Jace won’t let me forget it. Jace is incredibly attractive and we’re close, so I understand Heath feeling a little uncomfortable. I don’t need to be reminded of it.
“I love that you still have separate rooms, but God, he’s a douche for agreeing to that.”
“Jace!”
“What? Tell me I’m wrong.”
“He’s still my boyf—”
“He’s not your boyfriend; you are exclusively having sex. Are you forgetting who you’re talking to? I’m not Luke.”
It’s easier to tell people that Heath and I are together—that he’s my boyfriend—rather than having to explain the truth. And despite the little change in Heath’s personality since I told him I was leaving, I mostly like what we have. It’s easy. We’re not in each other’s business, and he satisfies a need.
“I haven’t forgotten, but can we drop it?”
“Yeah, absolutely. Let’s move on to why I called. Did you get it?” His pitch rises as he tries to hold back his excitement in case I say no.
“I…” I pause, making him sweat a little. “Got it.”
“Lainey! Yes. I’m jealous. It’s going to be an amazing experience and I’m proud of you. Have I mentioned that before—how proud I am of you?”
“Once or twice.”
Jace and I kept in touch after I went to New York. He was accepted to Yale the year after I moved, so I caught a bus to meet him a few times while I was there. Despite having my Gran around, I was lonely at times. I knew of a cousin living in New York City, but it had been years since any of us had spoken to him. It was nice knowing I wasn’t too far away from a friend, and Jace helped me a lot, being a shoulder to cry on in the early days when I wanted to talk about Thomas or the fact that Melissa and I drifted apart when I left.
Unlike me, Jace’s story has a happy ending. When he went home after our summer together, he worked hard and won over the girl he wanted. They’re still together. She’s planning on moving closer to him when she graduates from college back in their home state of Arizona.
“Are you heading home for Thanksgiving? Or is Samantha coming to you?” I ask, changing the subject. I always prefer talking about other people.
“She’s, ah…” He pauses and a few seconds of silence tick over. “We’re waiting for Christmas.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. It’s just so hard.” His voice wavers and I wish I was there to hug him. I couldn’t imagine having a long distance relationship, and because I’ve seen how hard it is for Jace, I never would.
“Let’s not talk about it,” he says, but of course, I don’t drop it.
“I want to talk about it. I’m here to listen. You can tell me anything, Jace.”
Jace sighs. “I know that, but I also know you like to focus on my issues to forget about your own.”
“What? That’s not what this is… I don’t do that.” I do. And it’s not exclusively him. I’ll do anything to forget.
“You’re right,” he states, but his tone makes it obvious he doesn’t believe me, and to prove it, he adds, “So tell me… Have you saved anyone else since I last spoke to you?” he teases and I roll my eyes.
“I didn’t save her,” I tell him. Again.
“Lainey, you beat a guy up.”
“I didn’t beat him up.” Seriously, you tell one person a story, and by the end of the day it’s blown out of proportion. In this case, it’s me telling Luke, who then told our parents, who then told Jace’s parents, who then told Jace. The reality is… “I punched him in the face.” And I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.
“Whatever, we both know you were awesome.”
I laugh even though the reminder of that day still pains me. “Thank you, but as I said when it first happened, I only did what anyone would have done in the same situation.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
I hear the smile in his voice as my mind flashes back to that night, my chest tightening with the memory.
“I need air. I’ll be right back.”
I love my brother, but I have no idea why I’m here. At a bar. Watching his game. Heath waves as I walk away, not even bothering to ask if I want him to come with me, that new relationship spark gone after only a few weeks.
The second I step out the back door, something doesn’t feel right, but it’s not until I walk toward Heath’s car that the panic takes over.
“The fight only makes this more fun,” a guy says with his body crushing a woman into the ground. She wriggles beneath him, but I don’t have time to see if she can help herself. Instead, I rush over, grabbing his shoulders to pull him back.
He struggles against me, only letting go when I kick at his legs, and he drops the woman to the dirt.
He turns on me instantly with a menacing expression, and something comes over me. Without thinking, I rear my fist back and slam it into his face, shocking the hell out of both of us.
The woman screams, drawing our attention before the guy pushes me to the ground and jumps up, running away like a coward.
My heart races as I watch him go, but the second he’s out of sight, I move over to the woman and help her up. “Jesus, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m okay,” she says, a small smile on her lips as she brushes her blonde hair out of her face. “Thanks to you. You are one badass chick. Did he hurt you?”
To this day, I have no idea how I did that; the guy was huge, and other than some minor bruising, my hand was fine. It didn’t even hurt until I got home and the adrenaline wore off.
What did hurt was discovering that the woman in front of me—the woman I’d “saved”—was Summer Kelly. I’d helped Thomas’s little sister and she had no idea who I was. Talk about heartbreaking.
I may have only been at Heartwood U for a few months, but I’d heard the rumors about Summer and Thomas. Mostly because of Luke. From the whispers, I’d learned what had happened the morning Thomas begged me to talk to him, and to this day, the guilt of that overwhelms me.
Seeing Summer, and her smile, her kindness, made it almost impossible to believe the rumors and yet, according to Luke, Thomas and Summer no longer spoke.
The memory of the day I left Heartwood Falls still haunts me, and no matter how much time has passed, I can’t seem to push those thoughts from my mind. I go through periods where it becomes more of a distant memory, but then something happens and I’m right back to feeling the guilt all over again. Like today.
“Lainey? You okay?” Jace asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Sorry, yeah. I’m fine. I appreciate you so much, Jace,” I say, changing my tune. “But it was nothing… So, tell me how your hot friend Kai is doing?”
“He’s great.” Jace chuckles, letting me off the hook. “How about I set you up?”
When I wake the next morning I have an urgent text from Luke, telling me to call him. A shiver runs through me when I see the time of the call—two a.m.—until he answers, sounding like death warmed over.
“Polly Pocket, I miss you,” he croaks into the phone, telling me he’s either sick or hungover. “You have to come to the Ball House for Thanksgiving. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Hungover then. Or still drunk. “Luke, you rang me in the middle of the night for that?”
“I rang you?”
“Yes, and it’s midweek.”
“So. We had an impromptu party.”
“Ugh, fine. But my answer is no. I’m not coming to a party.”
“It’s not a party. They’re having a party the night before. This is just me inviting you over on the actual day. On Thursday.”
“So I can look after your hungover ass? You sound awful now; imagine how you’ll be on Thursday. And what about Mom and Dad, and Ryan?”
“Dad’s away for work, remember? We’re celebrating after my game Saturday instead.” Damn, I hate when he’s right. “Please, Lainey. I miss you. I feel like I never see you, and you should be around your family on Thanksgiving,” he pleads with a saddened tone.
Ugh. He called me Lainey, and even though I usually avoid the Ball House whenever possible, I can’t stand when he does that.
Dammit. Why can’t I say no? “Fine, but I’m not cooking you breakfast or lunch or dinner. In fact, you owe me a meal.”
“Yes! We’ll work it out. Thanks, Pee Wee.” He hangs up after the nickname, and the sudden lightness in his voice makes me cringe.
I think I just got played.
He better not be lying about the party.